From Cub to Casanova: The Story of Wolf
by Hollow Penguin
Summary: Wolf's life story leading up to Prison.
1. Prologue

**A/N: **I've always wondered where Wolf came from and this is just my idea on how he came to be the incredible bacon-loving hero that we all love.

The prologue isn't great, but I wanted to set the scene for some later chapters.

_Disclaimer: I do not own the 10th Kingdom. All of the kingdoms and characters belong to their respective owners. I only own my imagination._

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**From Cub to Casanova :**

_The story of Wolf_

**Prologue**

People tend to fear what they don't understand and fear was all a wolf could expect in any of the Nine Kingdoms. Red Riding Hood Forest was a haven to all wolves.

They came from all over to seek shelter in its wooden embrace. It was a place where they could run free without hesitation or shame. A place where they _belonged_.

The human residents of the Forest and its encompassing villages had long ago forged a bond with the wolves. The incident of Red Riding Hood and the Wolf was a tale well told and objectified throughout even the Tenth Kingdom. But the people who lived there knew the true story and they grew to trust wolves to work and attend school with their kind, without any trepidation.

Wolves settled in the forest and built cottages to raise their families. Wolf pups attended class with human children and often went to work in one of the mills that outlined the Forest when they grew older. Mills seemed to be the perfect place for wolves to earn a living. The work was tough and required an amazing amount of strength and endurance that only a wolf could produce.

There were a few rare cases over the years of wolves attacking humans and the like, but those instances were discovered to be provoked or the work of a _Moon-crazed_ wolf who had to be "taken care of." Every case was brought amongst a court of wolves and humans. The council made up of mayors from each of the neighboring towns and the Alpha wolf of each pack.

The men in the council did their best to be objective and detached from both the plaintiff and the defendent. However, the cases usually ended with prison sentences to be served in the 4th Kingdom. _Snow White's Memorial Prison_ was a force to be reckoned with and no wolf wanted to go there. The wolves did their best to blend in with the surface and not do anything too 'wolfy' in public. Many wolves found this to be a prison sentence all on its own and they wanted nothing more than to be who they were born to be. Wild and fierce and free. Regardless of their beliefs on the subject, most of the wolves in the forest were left with no choice but to conform.

It was viewed publicly as a sense of camaraderie between humans and wolves - that had developed over the course of many decades and should be cherished and protected.

But every establishment has its flaws and errors. The biggest problem for the wolves was the FHAWA - Farmer and Huntsman Anti-Wolf Association. A group of closed minded defensive humans who thought wolves to be lower than any bottom dweller they had ever heard of. They were dense and insecure about their intelligence to the point of becoming violent. Generations after generations of shallow minded people who attacked anything they could not comprehend with violence.

The FHAWA lurked in the dark alleys of the villages and in the village pubs, preying on any narrow-minded fool who crossed their paths. They sought allies in the fight against wolves and bought their way into the minds of many slow men, who were willing to listen to anything so long as the beer was being ordered on someone else's tab.

Despite all of the problems that wolves faced, they were all content to live in the forest for as long as possible.

The forest was lovely any time of year. Its trees went on for miles - to touch the sky and grasp eachother, like children holding hands, forming a canopy at the top. The birds always sang and the golden leaves always fell softly to the ground in the Autumn. The moon loomed larger there than it did anywhere else in the 9 Kingdoms. Fireflies would dance at night to the sound of the cicadas. Faeries played games on the wolf cubs all school year long. And rabbits hopped carelessly everywhere. It was the perfect place to raise a family.

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	2. Wolf

**A/N: **I'm trying to keep the story as light-hearted as possible, while still making it relate to the mini-series.

However, I think that Wolf had somewhat of a difficult life pre-10th Kingdom.

He said on numerous occasions that "People don't like wolves." And I want to explore how he and his family dealt with that.

_Disclaimer: I don't own the 10th Kingdom or its characters._

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**From Cub to Casanova :**

_The story of Wolf_

**Wolf**

Mrs. Wolfson held her newborn cub in her arms, marveling over every tiny digit of his hands and curly brown hair that crowned his head. The infant cooed and smiled at the golden full moon hanging above the forest. The night air was cool against their arms, as she rocked her baby boy, back and forth, in a cradled embrace.

Her two older cubs giggled by her side, as they told stories to their new little brother.

Walter was in the middle of his seventh year - he was always the serious one and the past year had been difficult for him. School with the human children had had an unforgivable - in Mrs. Wolfson's eyes - effect on her son. She saw how his eyes were always hooded and his mouth forever set in a trim line of sincerity. She longed for him to smile and be happy; it killed her to see him so grown up and pulled back from the world.

Every day when he came home, she asked him about his day, and he repeated the same despondent statement.

"It was fine. We learned about the Kingdoms. The human boys played at break."

At that moment, he leaned over his baby brother's face, standing on tip-toes to do so, and told him all about the forest. He told stories of the moon and the rabbits and lit up the night sky with his imagination.

Mrs. Wolfson watched as her daughter, Willow, twirled in circles so that her skirt would fly around her. The young girl would start school in a few weeks and she was as concerned for her as she was for Walter. There was a bright optimism to the six year old - full of adventure and kindness.

Mrs. Wolfson hated the thought that life with the human children would tarnish the glow and make her as melancholy as her brother.

She wanted her children to stay cubs forever and find love in the moonlight. She didn't want reality to make them old too soon.

The Kingdoms were full of powerful magic, but the power of the love that connected them as a family, was stronger than all of it combined.

She began to sing and her oldest cubs chimed in as they danced around their mother.

"_The shepherdess makes quite a mess, but little lambs are lovely_."

The baby giggled and she lightly kissed his forehead.

"Everything is perfect, Warren. We'll all be happy, for ever after."

He smiled a toothless grin.

"My little Wolf."


	3. The Hunt: Part one

**A/N:** My computer doesn't want to cooperate and let me center the title. This is: **The Hunt: Part 1**

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own the 10th Kingdom or any of its characters. I wish I did though, especially Wolf. ;)

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"Now? Is it now?" Wolf hopped up and down in his overalls. He was in his fourth year and already had enough energy for two boys his age. Deep brown hair fell in curls around his eyes, as he stood before his parents.

"Soon." his mother promised, smiling down at him.

The first rabbit hunt of the Spring was always the most exciting and this year Wolf would get to join in on the fun. He had heard the stories from his sister; she told him what it felt like to run through the forest at night, completely unrestrained, with nothing but the moon washing over you, leading the way.

The hunt itself meant little to Willow. Sure, she loved the battle of stealth that came with catching the rabbits, and there wasn't a taste quite as intoxicating as rabbit stew in the world. For her, however, it was the feel of wind in her hair, of being completely out of control and in it at the same time. She loved feeling like there were no rules, no humans to diminish them, no boundaries. For Willow, _that_ was what being a wolf meant. She felt she could run forever.

Wolf asked his brother about the hunt, but Walter gave few answers and none of them were as captivating as their sister's. It was odd to Wolf, how quiet Walter was when it came to wolf-stuff. He always told him colorful stories about the Kingdoms and even the mythical 10th Kingdom (a story gossiped about by the human children, but never accepted for fact), but he always got quiet when it came to anything wolfy.

"Not now, Warren." his brother said, a little too harsh.

Wolf stopped jumping in place and started to frown. They only called him "Warren" when they were mad or being very serious. Every time his name was used in that tone of voice, he felt somehow rejected -like he was in the way.

He could feel the tears forming in his eyes and his lips began to quiver. The guilt hit Walter like a sucker-punch to the gut, when he saw his little brother about to cry.

"Hey Wolf, it's okay." He knelt by the four year old, placing a hand on his shoulder and trying to look cheerful. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you."

Wolf swiped at his eye with the sleeve of his left arm, but he didn't look any better.

"The hunt is…great." Walter forced the word from his throat as if it were projectile acid. A grimace fought his face for control, but he twisted it into an artificial smile.

Wolf looked up at his brother from hooded eyes. "It is?"

"Yeah. It…you're really going to enjoy it."

Wolf smiled, his small canines looking impossibly sharp. Walter patted his younger brother on the head, gave him one more reassuring smile, and turned to go outside.

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An hour later the family stood by the edge of the trees outside their home.

Willow waited impatiently by the chimney in the back, while Walter stood to the side of the cottage glaring into the darkness ahead. His strength and energy already depleted in dreading the event.

Wolf waited with his parents by the front door. The young cub could not contain his excitement for the upcoming event. In his mind it meant that he was finally a part of the family, finally one of them. He ran in circles around his parents until his father put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

His dad was laughing heartily at his cub's eagerness to hunt; he told Wolf to face the forest.

"Alright, kiddo. You want to be the _best_ rabbit hunter in this forest?"

Wolf nodded. He was smiling from ear to ear.

"Well, then you have to learn the basics. Look into the forest and tell me what you see."

Wolf did so and after a few seconds he reported, "Trees."

His father chuckled. "What else?"

Wolf concentrated this time, his small face scrunched up in thought. He stood perfectly still, his breathing light -eyes straining to find something among the dark wooden scenery.

Several moments passed. To Wolf it felt like forever. Then he saw it - shining like a crystal in the night. A sharp blue eye.

"A deer!" Wolf whispered loudly - it was all he could do not to yell with joy.

His parents smiled at each other.

"Very good, Wolf." Mr. Wolfson beamed down at his son. "Now, when you hunt you have to stay very calm and take in every sight, sound, and smell around you."

He poked Wolf's nose lightly at the word _smell_. Giggling, Wolf scrunched his nose. They all knew he was the best smeller in the family, maybe even in the forest.

"Think you can do that?"

Wolf nodded and his father smiled once more. "Good."

His parents grasped hands for a minute and looked into each other's eyes. Then they let go of one another and stared into the forest.

His father howled and the hunt began.


	4. The Hunt: Part Two

**A/N:** I got this up faster than I expected and I'm not entirely happy with the lack of conversation in this chapter. (sorry)

However, I wanted to give some insight into Walter's mind and I hope that it clears any confusion up.

Thank you for reading. :) I'll get to work on the next chapter soon, I promise.

*****Also, I'm uploading this on 'the new family computer' and it's got a widescreen monitor.

So if anyone notices that the sentences aren't aligned correctly or anything, please send me a message and I'll try and fix it.

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Kingdoms. And it's painfully clear to me that I don't own Wolf. :( I can dream though, right?_

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**From Cub to Casanova:**

_The story of Wolf_

**The Hunt: Part Two**

**Walter**

Walter took off in a direction that he was certain no one else would follow. As he ran, he fought to catch up with his thoughts, barely dodging tree branches and various shrubs along the way. He loathed being a wolf and he couldn't see how his family reveled in the uncontrollable nightmare beasts within themselves. All it took for that _thing _inside to gain control was a full moon. That was all. No curse. No incantation. Just the moon and the blood coursing through his veins.

The human boys didn't understand – not that they tried. He wanted so much to belong; to be like them.

They treated him like a disease, as if by being within his proximity they could become like him.

At first, he had been accepted by them. When he was a year or so older than Warren, the kids at school didn't know how to hate him. They knew that he was fast and they knew that he was the best at Hide-And-Seek, but they didn't know that those were bad things. Not until their parents told them – that's when the jeering started.

It began with a limerick, kind of like the nursery rhymes they were all taught as toddlers; or cubs. It was something simple, so that all could join in at a moment's notice. Then they threw things at him…sticks and stones, mostly.

One particularly cruel child pelted him with pig's feet on the way to class. The boy's father was a drunk that had lost his job because he showed up to work heavily inebriated, slurring dirty verses about dwarves and their gemstones.

Yet the man, in a pathetic attempt to regain his 'good' name, swore up and down how it was all the fault of wolves. And that, "If it weren't for having to treat those bloody mongrels like the rest of US, then some real good folks would still be workin."

Things just got worse as Walter got older. Having things thrown at you and being slandered on a daily basis is almost intolerable, but it's nothing compared to not existing at all.

When the taunts and the violence ceased to work, the kids decided to play a new game. The rules were easy enough so that even the village idiot could learn them – and he did: Simply do not acknowledge the presence of Walter Wolfson and you're in.

No one talked to him or looked at him, not even from askew. It got to the point where even the teacher, who herself harbored no ill feelings toward wolves, was afraid to acknowledge him. For fear of sitting on tacks at her chair or finding her lunch had been laced with mud when she turned her back.

Walter hated school, but he hated being a wolf more. He was convinced that if he weren't a wolf, but just a normal human boy, then he would have friends in his enemies. He knew that it wasn't who he was they despised, but what he was. Sadly for Walter, there's no cure for being a wolf.

And so he ran through the forest for maybe the hundredth time, passing trees he had climbed and rocks he had rolled over. He kept going until his legs collapsed beneath him on the damp grass, but he had reached his destination just the same.

Three miles from his family's cabin was a thin stream of water, almost like a brook except that it started at a tree and went on until it reached another. It was always in a constant state of motion between the two, even in the dead of winter it did not stop. Walter knew this to be magic of some sort, but he had no idea whose, since there wasn't a witch or fae within miles.

He took comfort in the fact that maybe; just maybe, there could be no reason at all for this stream to exist. That the stream was some unique creation all by itself and that it had become a mockery to its own kind and an abomination to its challengers.

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**Warren/Wolf**

Wolf ran as fast as his small legs could manage. He tried to stop every so often and survey the forest, like his father had shown him. It wasn't easy at first, his attention span wasn't very stable yet and the full moon swayed his thoughts with every step he took.

As he went deeper into the woods where the moon barely lit, it got easier.

His nose flooded with scents from all around – the sharp smell of damp grass, the hollowed smell of tree bark, and then there were the animals. He noted how birds smelled awful and badgers even worse. The foxes didn't interest him, except for how swiftly they moved. Deer were much too big for him, although they smelled delicious.

Rabbits smelled the best; almost as good as the lambs they had for dinner, sometimes.

He spotted a bunny behind a nearby tree – it was gray with a charcoal patch over one eye and a tail the color of snow. Wolf watched as the plump rabbit nibbled on some fresh daffodils.

Thinking about how to best snare the rabbit, he remembered a useful tip his sister had given him: The rounder they were, the slower they'd be; the younger the better too. This bunny was a tad bigger than a newborn and –Wolf hoped- had less experience than a full grown rabbit, in evading predators.

He snuck up on the bunny – holding his breath as he did so, for fear that he would begin to uncontrollably giggle. Had he been able to see himself do this, he wouldn't have been able to keep from giggling.

As he moved, Wolf showed a real natural talent for hunting; but he was still a young cub and his movements were over-exaggerated in many ways. He lifted his legs high and brought his boots down softly on the grass in large strides. His arms remained stark still at his sides and his tongue jutted out from under bit lips in a determined manner.

The bunny twitched slightly as his boot hit the ground a foot away and Wolf pounced.


	5. The Hunt: Final Part

**From Cub to Casanova**

_The Story of Wolf_

**The Hunt: Final Part**

He had a mess of dry leaves in his hair, grass stains on his elbows and knees, and one bad looking hole in his jacket pocket – which his mother no doubt would not be pleased with, but Wolf couldn't help but beam as he carried the rabbit home.

He could feel its heart beating rapidly as he clutched it to his chest and in truth- Wolf wasn't sure what to do with it. The rabbits his parents had always brought back from the hunt were utterly still and the shine had gone out of their eyes. They smelled kind of funny too, not like the one he held then.

His brother wasn't a very good rabbit catcher and he hardly carried any back from his hunts. And his sister was more preoccupied with running than she was actually with catching anything; which left all of the gathering to their parents. Until that year, that is. Wolf was glowing with pride – he had surpassed his older siblings in something and he felt unstoppable.

As he walked he hummed a song to himself, patting the bunny lightly on the head all the while.

The cabin door was open and the candlelight from within illuminated the small clearing in which they lived. His father stood in the frame, smoking a pipe and watching his wife with a loving eye. Wolf's mother sat on the grass, she had her legs in a line before her and she leaned on her elbows, smiling up at the moon.

When Wolf neared the clearing his father looked up at him, a proud smile fighting his lips. They locked eyes for a moment and his father nodded, silently before turning his attention back to his wife.

His mother reached her hand out to him as he walked closer, her eyes never left the moon.

"Hello, young one. Isn't she lovely?"

Wolf sat on his feet next to her and looked up at the moon above. It was pearl white with golden-orange craters scattered ornately across its surface. A pale red hue encircled it – a blood moon. Wolf looked at his mother, she had her face turned up, basking in its glow. And as much as he loved her, she was a little scary when she got like that. It was only the moon and her, nothing else.

She loved her husband and her cubs – but she would always love the moon more. She worshiped it.

Wolf nodded, a cold breeze swept the air around him and he hugged the rabbit closer to his chest.

The breeze brought with it an aroma he knew well; he followed the trail of scent, turning his nose until –looking over his shoulder, he faced his father. The light outlining the older wolf's silhouette, Warren now noticed, was that of the fire under the cauldron. A stew of rabbits boiled already within.

Wolf turned back to his mother; the bunny twitched its ears under his chin, silently reminding him of its presence. Absentmindedly, he smoothed its ears back in a comforting manner as he watched her.

She had a mad look about her, in the moonlight – eyes shining wickedly bright. His mother smiled openly at the moon, her fangs protruding from her gums. In one bounding movement she was up off the ground and racing toward the woods.

Wolf remained still, watching after her until all he saw were trees once more and she was gone.

His father knelt to the ground next to him. "The moon hath captured her heart."

Wolf opened his mouth to question him, but decided against it when he saw that his father's eyes were directed at the forest outstretching around them. Mr. Wolfson sighed and turned to acknowledge his son this time.

"A fine rabbit you have there," he reached a hand out to pet its ears.

Wolf recoiled reflexively, wrapping his arms tighter around the bunny. All at once he was conflicted again. He knew what the hunt was about – that rabbits were food. He felt the hunger inside himself, invoked by the rabbit's proximity. Yet, somehow, he didn't feel like he could eat that particular rabbit.

It was_ his_, after all. He captured it all by himself. So it seemed only right that he alone decide its fate and he knew that giving it to his parents would only ensure it as dinner. But what could he do? He was a wolf and wolves ate fluffy bunnies and lambs all the time. And Wolf _did_ love that. So what was the deal with this rabbit -he couldn't figure it out.

"Warren…" his father started, but was cut-off by Walter reemerging from the wood.

There was a moment then –when the brothers connected eyes and saw themselves as equals in a strange battle. It was over as soon as it happened, but the feeling stuck. Wolf knew why Walter didn't hunt then –not the whole story, hardly any of it really, but enough to see that wanting to keep the rabbit free wasn't abnormal.

Walter smiled at his baby brother, genuinely for the first time in months. There was a deep hope dwindled with sadness in his eyes; maybe all was not lost after all.

Their father looked at them both as if they had gone mad and he felt it might be catching.

The bunny's heart _thump-thumped _against his own; Wolf watched as his father thought over the dragon in the clearing.

The moments passed as their father mulled over the problem. The boys had obvious objections to them eating that rabbit –maybe even _all_ rabbits as far as Walter was concerned.

Warren was young and Mr. Wolfson struggled to remember what he had been at that age – a good hunter, no doubt; wild, above all else. But there had been something to him, something rebellious and fierce and whole-hearted. He felt everything at that age –all of the highs and all of the lows that his emotions would allow. It was being a wolf, but it was also growing up; realizing the lack of magic that everyday life really held for everyone and resisting it with every fiber of his being.

His sons had no less gotten their resilience from him and he had to admit, that much to his disapproval of the situation at hand, he could not hold their silent rebellions against them – it was after all what made them so amazing in his eyes.

The three of them remained silent for another moment – Wolf clutching the rabbit for dear life, while his father and brother stared each other down. The small cub counted the moments ticking by with the bunny's heartbeats, thinking of how his father's pocket watch would sound if it were going too fast.

Finally, Mr. Wolfson sighed.

Wolf looked up to see his father pinching the bridge of his nose like he always did when he was exhausted or stressed out. Walter relaxed a little, letting himself slouch more, now that it appeared there would be no argument.

"What do I-"Wolf was unsure how to proceed.

"Walter, that stream you go to sometimes…"

Walter made a face at the ground near his boots. _They_ knew where he went. He could think of nothing better to do than nod.

"I want you to take your brother there now and release the rabbit. We won't tell your mother or your sister about this." He turned to go inside without another look at his sons.

He wasn't angry with them, not really. Mr. Wolfson had always imagined that his sons would grow to be intelligent and skillful wolves. He had dreams of the three of them hunting together and sharing tales of grandeur; great adventures catching the most wild of beasts out there and winning the love of damsels in distress, like in the old days.

But the old days were dead. The new pacts with the humans made for a more compassionate generation of wolves in the area. His sons would never be great hunters if this kept up and he couldn't hold their paws forever. They needed to learn to hunt for themselves or they would starve on their own.

As he added spices to the rabbit stew, Mr. Wolfson debated the best way to deal with the situation at hand. It was clearly too late for Walter, the boy had made up his mind years ago to despise his heritage. Warren on the other hand was still young and easily persuaded by his feelings.

He made up his mind to take the kids out hunting more. Willow would love the chance to run free and Wolf would, he was almost completely certain, grow accustomed to the hunt soon enough. He just needed more practice and time to learn that rabbits were nothing but food.


End file.
